


At First Sight

by Iknowyouknowleeknow



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Flirting, M/M, This is my first time writing in years, idk how to tag it, so I’m sorry if it’s shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-16
Updated: 2019-04-16
Packaged: 2020-01-14 20:08:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18483481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iknowyouknowleeknow/pseuds/Iknowyouknowleeknow
Summary: “Excuse me, do you believe in love at first sight?”“Or should I walk by a second time?” Minho smirked, glancing up from his phone. “Sorry, kid, but you’ve got to try harder than that if you want to impress me.”





	At First Sight

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing in years, so I apologize for how awful this is. I'm trying to get back into writing and it's going to be a long process. I've always had issues with being more focused on describing what people are doing than the emotions or thoughts, and I did that again here, so that's definitely something I want to work on. Any thoughts or suggestions would be greately appreciated.

“Excuse me, do you believe in love at first sight?”  


“Or should I walk by a second time?” Minho smirked, glancing up from his phone. “Sorry, kid, but you’ve got to try harder than that if you want to impress me.”  


The boy in front of him blinked owlishly, eyes wide underneath overgrown chestnut bangs. His chubby cheeks flushed, “I-I wasn’t hitting on you. I’m just doing a survey for my psychology class.”  


“Oh,” Minho pursed his lips into a pout, half because he was disappointed he wasn’t being flirted with and half because it was his customary thinking face. He tapped a finger against his full bottom lip and let his eyes fall, fully taking in the boy before him for the first time.  


Tight black jeans hugged slim legs and a studded belt highlighted a waist so small Minho almost did a double take. Ring covered fingers clutched at a tattered notebook, white knuckled as Minho’s gaze continued to burn his body. He wore a simple black t-shirt under a distressed denim jacket, the dark outfit a contradiction to his adorable face. Minho’s eyes dragged up to the boy’s and he smirked, shooting the other a wink as he finally answered the question.  


“I do now.”  


The boy’s face reddened even further and he averted his eyes, scribbling something in his notebook as Minho continued to stare unabashedly.  


“T-thank you,” he stuttered out, gaze quickly flirting up to meet Minho’s before dropping again. “T-that’s all I needed.”  


The boy moved to step away, but Minho cut him off before he could, “Would you mind if I borrowed your pen for a second?”  


“Oh, um, sure,” the kid held it out to him and Minho took it with one hand, encircling the boy’s wrist and pushing up his jacket sleeve with the other.  


Minho flipped the boy’s arm and quickly scrawled his number across the underside of the boy’s wrist. “I’m invested now,” he drawled when he noticed the boy staring at him with blown eyes. “I want to know the results.”  


“Okay,” the boy’s voice was soft as Minho released his wrist and offered his pen back to him.  


He took it with trembling fingers and Minho winked, “Text me sometime, baby.” He let out a bright giggle when the boy promptly dropped the pen and notebook, his cheeks heating up for the third time in their short meeting.  


Minho crouched and gathered the boy’s supplies, sneaking a glance at the open page of the notebook. He saw two columns full of tally marks, one labeled ‘does believe’ and one labeled ‘doesn’t believe.’ Underneath the ‘does believe’ column, he saw that a little note had been added.  


‘Oh my god he’s so pretty, why won’t he stop staring at me, I’m going to die.’  


Minho laughed again, tapping a finger against the note as he handed it back to the boy, “Looks like you survived.”  


“Barely,” the boy muttered, hugging the notebook to his chest as his eyes focused on his own feet, flicking up briefly enough to see the delighted smile on Minho’s lips. “If you don’t leave now I probably won’t last much longer.”  


“We wouldn’t want that.” Minho took a few steps backwards, his gaze not leaving the smaller boy’s face. “Promise you’ll text me?” He held up a pinkie finger and quirked an eyebrow towards the boy.  


The kid held up his own pinkie, cheeks still a dusted rose, “Promise.”  


Satisfied, Minho turned on his heel and skipped the rest of the way to class.  


-  


“How’d your project go?” Seungmin glanced up as Jisung entered their shared dorm room. “Did you get enough people?”  


Jisung shook his head, flopping back onto his bed and staring at the ceiling. “I got distracted,” he lifted his wrist and glanced at the numbers scrawled there, a blush heating his cheeks once again, “I think I got hit on.”  


Seungmin furrowed his brow, “What do you mean, you think you got hit on?”  


Jisung rolled over onto his stomach and shoved his face into his pillow. His muffled voice filled the room, “I don’t know. I asked him if he believed in love at first sight and he thought I was using a dumb pick up line on him, but I told him it was for a project. Then he looked me up and down and said ‘I do now.’”  


Jisung didn’t need to see Seungmin roll his eyes, he could hear it in his tone, “He was definitely hitting on you, idiot.”  


“I don’t know,” Jisung whined, kicking his feet a bit as he burrowed deeper into his pillow. “He was too pretty to be hitting on me.”  


“You’re useless,” was the only reply he got before Seungmin shoved his headphones into his ears and went back to his laptop.  


Jisung let out a sigh and lifted his head enough to take another glance at his wrist. If it wasn’t for the unfamiliar handwriting there, he could almost convince himself that this had all been a dream. Sure Jisung was cute, and sure he got hit on occasionally, but not by boys that looked like that. Boys that looked like that were always joined at the hip by someone equally as pretty, not someone with chubby cheeks and a desperate need for a haircut. It just didn’t happen.  


He fished his phone out of his back pocket and opened it up to the contact he had entered when the boy walked away. The words ‘pretty boy who’s trying to kill me’ were listed above the string of numbers that Jisung had copied off his wrist. His finger hovered over the message button before he dropped the phone and his head to the bed with a sigh.  


There was no point. What would he even say to him anyway?  


-  


“You broke your promise.” Minho let his backpack crash onto the table, the bang deafening in the silence of the library’s study wing. He hooked an ankle around the empty chair across from the cute, chubby cheeked boy and pulled it out, dropping into the seat with a pout. The boy in question was staring at him, mouth open and eyes once again curtained by bangs that should have seen scissors weeks ago. “You promised to text me.”  


The kid swallowed hard, his eyes dancing everywhere but up to meet Minho’s gaze, “I, um, I didn’t finish the project yet.”  


Minho settled his elbows on the table and bracketed his chin in cupped hands, lips downturned. “You could have texted me about anything, not just the project.” He searched around under the table with his foot until it nudged against the others, sighing when the boy quickly withdrew his. “You could have texted me your name, for starters.”  


“Jisung,” the boy’s eyes were locked on the open laptop in front of him and his voice was soft. “Han Jisung.”  


Minho beamed, reaching across the table to poke Jisung’s hand until he glanced up to meet his eyes, “I’m Minho. Lee Minho.”  


Jisung didn’t respond, just nodded microscopically and began twirling one of the numerous rings on his fingers.  


“So why haven’t you finished the project yet?” Minho inquired, gazing at the other boy through lowered lashes just in case he decided to look up. “It’s been a week since I saw you.”  


“You distracted me,” Jisung muttered. A foot smacked against Minho’s shin and he let out a delighted giggle at the fact that Jisung was warming up to him enough to give him a hard time. “Plus you made me realize that it did seem like I was hitting on people, not doing a project. So I stopped.”  


“Did anyone else flirt with you?” Minho wasn’t sure where the surge of jealousy came from, but the thought of someone else acting like he had with Jisung had his heart sinking to his stomach. He knew he was nothing more than a random flirt to the boy, someone who had no right to be jealous, but his heart wasn’t listening to his brain. He wanted to be the only one to set Jisung’s cheeks aflame the way they were right now.  


“No,” Jisung pouted a little and Minho’s lips turned up at the cute gesture. “People either answered the question or gave me a weird look and ignored it.”  


“Good,” Minho unlocked his phone and slid it across the table towards Jisung. “Give me your number, since you can’t be trusted to text me.”  


“I wanted to,” Jisung mumbled, quickly typing in his digits. “But I didn’t know what to say to someone like you.”  


Minho accepted his phone when Jisung handed it back to him, confusion crossing his face, “What do you mean by someone like me?”  


“You know,” Jisung bit down on his bottom lip and met Minho’s gaze through his choppy bangs, “pretty.”  


Minho lifted his phone and snapped a picture, giggling at Jisung’s startled blink. He set the photo as Jisung’s profile picture in his phone, “Do you not own a mirror?”  


“I, well, yeah. I do.”  


“Then you know that you’re pretty too.” Minho fluttered his eyelashes, “Not as pretty as me, of course. But still pretty.”  


“Can you two go flirt outside? Some of us are actually trying to do work!”  


A blotchy red worked its way up Jisung’s neck and stained his cheeks as he glanced at the girl who was glaring at them. Minho just laughed and got to his feet, swinging his bag onto his back before bowing apologetically to the other student.  


“We weren’t flirting,” Jisung blurted, eyes dancing between Minho and the girl at the next table.  


“I certainly was,” Minho winked at the flustered boy and lifted his pinkie, the same as the last time they parted. “Promise to text this time, for real?”  


Jisung leaned over the table and wrapped his finger around Minho’s, linking them briefly, “Promise.”  


-  


“You’ve been staring at your phone for twenty minutes,” Seungmin leaned over Jisung’s shoulder, poking the object in question. “What’s going on?”  


“I promised Minho I’d text him, but I don’t know what to say.” Jisung shoved his phone away and dropped his head to the desk, groaning deeply. “Help.”  


“Just say hi.”  


“That’s ridiculous.”  


Seungmin sighed, “You’re ridiculous.”  


-  


“Why have you been pouting at your phone for half the day?” Woojin flicked a finger against Minho’s forehead, rolling his eyes when Minho halfheartedly batted his hand away.  


“Jisung still hasn’t texted me.”  


“Who’s Jisung?”  


“The cute boy from the courtyard last week. The one who asked me if I believed in love at first sight. I saw him at the library today and he promised he’d actually text me this time, but he still hasn’t.” Minho poked his phone again, sighing when it showed he still had no messages.  


“You probably scared him away with all your aggressive flirting.”  


Minho’s mouth dipped into a frown and he lifted his pinky to his lips, gnawing at the nail as he digested his roommate's words. His shoulders drooped and he sent one last glance towards his phone, agreeing when he saw there was still nothing, “You’re probably right. I came on too strong. But he was just so damn cute, what was I supposed to do? Not flirt?” He scoffed, “As if.”  


Minho stood up from his seat, stretching his arms above his head before snatching his phone up and shoving it in his pocket, vowing not to look at it for at least five more minutes. “I’m going to grab coffee. Want anything?” He hoped his voice sounded breathy and nonchalant, like the fact that he’d scared away the first boy he’d had any interest in since starting college was Not A Big Deal. Even though it was. A very big deal.  


If Woojin heard the sadness in his tone, he didn’t mention it. He just shook his head and gave Minho a slightly pitying smile as the younger boy headed out the door.  


-  


“You didn’t respond to my text.”  


Minho spun around, the hot coffee in his hand sloshing over in his haste to face Jisung. He winced at the burn on his hand, but ignored it to stare at the younger boy, brow furrowed, “But you didn’t text me.”  


“Yes I did.” Jisung dug his hands into his pockets, shifting back on his heels as he blushed softly. “Check again.”  


Minho withdrew his phone and powered up the home screen, noting that there was in fact a new message.  


He pouted, “You literally texted me two minutes ago. What, did you see me in here and suddenly remember that I existed?”  


“Just read it,” Jisung muttered, kicking out his foot to nudge Minho’s. “Before I decide it’s too embarassing and shove your phone into your coffee cup so you never see it.”  


A delighted giggle left Minho’s lips as he read the message, gaze snapping up to beam brightly at Jisung, “Does this mean you’ll go on a date with me?”  


The younger boy flushed, but kept his eyes locked with Minho, “I’d love too.”  


-  


“What did he end up texting you anway?” Woojin asked, hours after his starry eyed roommate had come back from the coffee shop. “You didn’t say.”  


“I don’t believe in love at first sight, but for you I’ll make an exception.”


End file.
